A Study In Aeroplanes
by GF-221b
Summary: CABIN PRESSURE. Martin discovers Sherlock Holmes. Or, how Martin finally outwitted Douglas. Slash and Het both. COMPLETE
1. New York City

A Prologue of Sorts: New York City

* * *

><p>"Skipper," Arthur's sort of whining voice made Martin's head hurt a bit.<p>

It was a new day, and so a new adventure. After nearly losing his favorite hobby, Martin had gone home with a heavy heart, thanking whatever deities were actually up in the sky that GERTI was all right and Gordon Shappey hadn't gotten her in the end. All thanks to Douglas, as usual. He had figured everything out and…

Martin shook his head, "What, Arthur?"

"Your flight bag's heavier than usual," the younger male replied, hefting it.

"What does it matter?" Martin suddenly snapped, then, "Sorry, long night."

"The van keep you up?" Douglas asked, his voice velvety and oddly pleasant as ever.

"No," Martin said. He said nothing more.

"Oh, our mysterious Captain is even more mysterious today," was Douglas's reply.

Martin took his bag from Arthur, "I'll take that, Arthur," he said curtly, nodding to the cabin boy before he got up into the aeroplane.

Douglas and Arthur followed him, "But really, Skip, what's in there that makes it so heavy?" Arthur pressed.

"There's a book in it," Martin replied as calmly as he could.

"Oh, that's boring," Douglas pointed out, "You _always_ have a book with you. Though to be fair, it is usually a paperback, and rather more light than whatever you've got in there…"

"You've been handling my bag?" Martin suddenly asked, looking over at his First Officer with a rather icy glare.

"No, not at all," was Douglas's reply. Martin never believed a word Douglas said, of course.

The beginning of their journey started out all right, and once they were in the air, Arthur came in with the coffee. "Shall we play twenty questions about what book Skip's reading, chaps?" he suggested.

"God, do we have to?" the First Officer whined.

"Pass the time," Arthur pointed out.

Martin sighed, "Good luck."

"I'll start!" Arthur shouted. "Is it… _The Wind and the Willows_?"

"I thought we taught you the _right_ way of playing this game, Arthur!" Douglas said, obviously exasperated by the plane's overly-helpful passenger.

"Did we?" Arthur asked.

"No, 19," Martin said, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly.

"How many pages is it?" Douglas asked, glaring a bit at Arthur.

"Dunno… 'bout… 1100 or so?" Martin asked, thinking about it, "18."

"Uhm…" Arthur thought hard for a moment.

"Male or female protagonist?" Douglas asked.

"Male, 17."

"Interesting choice, especially since you tend to read chick lit," Douglas mused.

"That's all they have at the airports when I go in to buy a book!" Martin said, flailing a bit in his seat.

"What's the genre, Skip?" Arthur asked.

"Mystery."

"Intriguing. Is it British?" Douglas asked.

"Yes."

"Historical?"

"Somewhat, yes."

"How many are we at?" Arthur asked.

Martin thought for a moment, "15 questions?"

Arthur nodded, "Uhm… Is there some sort of romance in it?"

"Well… sort of," Martin replied, "But not between the main character and anyone… I mean, not really. 14."

"What era?" Douglas asked.

"Historically?" Martin asked. When Douglas nodded the affirmative, Martin answered with: "Victorian."

Douglas thought for a long moment about this.

"Has the book been made into a movie?" Arthur asked.

"Yes: A movie plus a recent sequel. Also two or three, or even more, television shows, several glorified fanfictions published, and there are several scholars that just study this particular character and world," Martin answered as if he was reading it out from a textbook.

"Wow… it's pretty popular then?" Arthur asked.

"Yes. 11 questions."

Douglas and Arthur sat in silence for a moment, letting the facts sink in.

"It's Harry Potter, isn't it," Arthur said, a serious expression on his face.

"That's more of… a fantasy, isn't it?" Douglas asked, in the tone he usually took with the simple-minded ex-steward.

"Is it? I just remember there was a lot of mystery in it," Arthur replied, a simple smile on his face.

"I'm not reading Harry Potter, no. 10," Martin sighed.

"A complete book of Miss Marple stories?" Arthur guessed.

"That's a female protagonist, and it's set in the early 1900s, I believe," Douglas pointed out.

"No, and 9," Martin replied.

Douglas was puzzled, "Honestly, Martin. Is it a new book? Something written now but set in the Victorian era?"

"While there is a book out now that is that way and uses the protagonist I'm reading about, no I'm not reading something like that. I'm reading the original," Martin replied, and almost smug smile on his face. "8."

Douglas blinked, and then turned slowly to his captain, "I'm getting bored all ready."

"Giving up, First Officer Richardson?" Martin asked, a challenge in his eyes.

Douglas would have taken the bait, would have continued on, but his mind was really blank right now, and he couldn't think, especially when Martin was radiating such confidence… it was slightly arousing. Douglas crossed his legs. "That won't work, _Sir_."

Martin sighed and looked behind him at Arthur, "How about you?"

"I just really wanted to know what book you were reading that would make your flight bag so heavy, Skipper…" Arthur replied.

Martin nodded, "It's _The Complete Sherlock Holmes_. I'm on 'A Case of Identity' right now."

Douglas let out a defeated growl and slumped back in his seat, "Why didn't I think of _that_. From your clues that makes _perfect_ sense!"

"Did you get the idea to read them from last Burling Day, Skipper?" Arthur asked, "When Mum made you Detective Inspector Martin Crieff for the day?"

Martin thought about it for a moment. "Not really. Kaitlin sent me the book for a belated birthday present last year, and I just dug it out of a pile on my floor. Since I didn't have anything to read, I decided that was the best choice."

Douglas scoffed, "You'll never beat me, though, I'm afraid. Even if you _are_ taking lessons from the only consulting detective in the world…"

"You never know," Martin replied cryptically, putting his hands on the console again.


	2. Oslo

Chapter Two: How Sherlock Holmes Saved Captain Martin Crieff's Miserable Life (Oslo)

* * *

><p>It started when Martin guessed correctly the next location they were flying to. He hadn't looked at the wall-chart, nor had he been reading his emails. He did pay attention to Carolyn when she lectured them about safety procedures and budgeting.<p>

"Next flight is—"

"Berlin," Martin finished, straightening his papers on his desk.

Carolyn looked at him, "How did you know? I haven't even put it on the wall chart…"

"You've got some pamphlets on your desk for the company CEO we're flying, and the address is on it. Also, you've pulled up the weather on your computer and also on your smart phone," Martin said, sighing.

Douglas crooked an eyebrow at this, but continued doing absolutely nothing. Arthur was all praise, however, which made Martin's insides bubble up with happiness even though Arthur always praised him. Carolyn's look of wonder must have made the ex-steward's praise a bit more worthy of a burst of self-confidence in the airdot captain.

It went on like this, little observations here and there: Douglas's wife had finally moved out, a fact which Martin knew from Douglas's wedding ring finally coming off. Carolyn and Hercules were getting more serious, a fact which Martin deduced from the gorgeous diamond necklace she now wore around her neck. Little things popped up and Martin figured them out slowly but surely, becoming better and better at observations and deduction.

"Inductions, actually," Martin said over the phone to his sister on the subject. "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle got the definition wrong."

All the while Martin steadily plodded through the stories, enjoying each one, as was induced by Douglas by the smile on his face when he opened the book, placed his bookmark on the bedside table in their shared hotel room, and began reading. His light sometimes didn't turn off until the wee hours of the morning.

The most recent of Martin's newfound talent was on a trip to Oslo. After takeoff, Arthur came in with the coffees. Douglas turned to Martin, "All right, what are we going to play to pass the time, boys?"

When Martin glanced at Arthur to see if Arthur had any ideas (oh, silly Martin, never mind) he noticed something. "Arthur… you're seeing someone…"

Arthur's mouth dropped open, "Skip, you're brilliant. How did you know?"

"Well, you're quiet, which means you're thinking of her," Martin said, "But I also smell perfume on you, Dolce and Gabbana's Light Blue, I believe, for women."

Douglas's eyebrow rose as he turned back to Arthur, "Expensive." He turned to Martin, "How on earth would you know a the smell of a perfume like that? Something you want to tell us."

"Douglas, shush," Martin replied, "And Kaitlin wears the same brand. She visited me last Saturday. We had coffee and then she left early. So I was right about the girl, Arthur?"

The younger man nodded. "She's lovely," Arthur gushed. "Her name's Pippa and she's—"

"Let me guess, brilliant?" Douglas asked.

"Yes, and funny and cute and just… brilliant," Arthur replied, the smile on his face almost contagious.

Martin studied Arthur, "Blonde hair?" he asked.

"Yes!" Arthur replied excitedly, "How'd you know?"

"You've got a blonde hair on your shirt. She stayed the night?" Martin asked.

"No, but I was over at her house all night," Arthur replied.

Douglas wolf-whistled, "Arthur, you dog."

"No, I slept on the couch. It was a late when I took her home, so she said I could stay on the couch if I liked…"

"That explains the hair on your uniform and the perfume still wafting on your person," Martin said, looking forward at some flight deck instruments before turning back to the overly helpful passenger.

"Oh. The hair must have transferred," Arthur replied, "I have a spare at the airfield. Honestly, who has their uniform with them on a date?"

"I bet Martin does," Douglas replied.

"I haven't been on a date in three months, so you are correct," Martin replied, taking Douglas's comments in stride as he often tried to do. "And I don't wear my full uniform on dates. The shirt is the nicest I happen to have, thank you very much.

There was silence for a moment before Douglas said, "Burling Day is coming up in a few weeks, Martin. Are you ready for it?"

"I will be," Martin replied.

"You won't beat me."

"Is this about the whisky?" Arthur asked, cutting in.

"Yes," Douglas replied. "Martin is under the impression that he can beat me this year."

"I _have_ been reading Sherlock Holmes stories, and I _have_ been making some spot-on deductions since doing so," Martin replied.

"Oh, but you don't remember last time? My wits weren't exactly tied behind my back, but I did outwit you, _Detective Inspector Captain Martin Crieff_," Douglas replied, his face getting unnaturally close to Martin.

"But I haven't told anyone about Pip, and Martin figured it out quite quickly," Arthur explained. "He's gotten really good."

"Will you put your money on him, Arthur?" Douglas asked.

"Mum says I can't gamble," Arthur replied.

"Very well," Douglas turned to his captain, "Martin, let's make a little wager, shall we?"

"Oh no…" Martin moaned, his face nearly falling into the console. "I'm going to regret this, but, sure."

"Good man," Douglas said, and about a second afterwards Arthur had his arms around Martin in a sort of backwards hug with Martin sitting down and Arthur standing up, leaning over him.

"Skip, you'll do brilliantly."

Martin was surprised, but he patted Arthur's hand fondly as Arthur retreated back to his position near the flight deck door. "What's your wager, Douglas?" he asked, turning to his First Officer.

"If I steal the whisky, you have to do a big favor for me. If you stop me from stealing the whisky, I do a big favor for you," Douglas proposed.

Martin thought for a moment, "Any favor? Either way?"

"Any favor, but it has to be a big one. It may be as embarrassing or as tame as you like, but it has to be big. It also should be thought out in advance, and done on the same day, after we return home with an either irritated or euphoric Mr. Burling," Douglas replied.

Martin was quiet for a moment. "You're on."

"Brilliant!" Arthur shouted.

* * *

><p>"He has a crush on you, you know," Arthur said as Douglas left the flight deck to go to the bathroom. It was the return flight home now, MJN having delivered the clients' packages safely before the day of the child's birthday party.<p>

"He does?" Martin asked, thankful he had not taken a sip of his coffee right then.

"Skip, you never noticed?" Arthur asked, his face reminding Martin of a small child who's just discovered Santa Claus isn't real.

"No… I haven't," Martin replied warily, watching the door.

"Oh," Arthur said. Then he brightened up, "_You_ haven't been to the Learning-About-People seminar in Ipswich. If you went, you could further your detective-y skills!"

"I'm not…" Martin stopped, "But Douglas… he has a… crush on me?"

"He's been smiling a lot," Arthur said, "And he's changed his voice for you. He doesn't put that velvety rumble for me or Mum. He tries to catch your eye… a lot. Oh, and he told me he likes you."

Martin's eyebrows rose, "Oh."

"Though… telling you he has a crush on you _is_ a secret…" Arthur mused.

Martin chuckled, but his cheeks had flared red a few moments ago, "I won't tell anyone I know…"

"But… you should keep an eye out for him. If you like him back, then you should tell him! You and him being together would be brilliant!" Arthur said, almost jumping up and down with excitement at the thought.

"Why would I… like him back?" Martin asked.

"You've been doing it too. You smile at him, make lots of eye-contact with him, you're voice hasn't changed much, but you get all red after he says naughty things. You never did that before… just really, really flustered. Though to be fair, you get really, really, _really_ flustered and go all red and stuff."

Arthur kept rambling on, but Martin wasn't really listening. Arthur had just become the Sherlock Holmes of MJN relationships, while Martin was becoming the Sherlock Holmes of… just MJN Air. But the realization that, yes, everything Arthur had said was true. Douglas and Martin had been holding each other's gaze a lot, and Douglas always smiled at him, but the smile never lingered long before a smarmy comment followed. Martin, in turn, always smiled at the thought of Douglas, more often than he used to, at least.

Martin shook his head a bit, trying to focus on Arthur's ramblings. When he couldn't, his mind began to wander to Douglas and the Burling Day Wager.

With the new information about Douglas suspected feelings for him, what exactly would Douglas want Martin to do for him if he won on Burling Day?


	3. Cardiff

Chapter Three: How Martin Finally Outwitted Douglas on Burling Day: Cardiff

"_Happy Burling Day to us! Happy Burling Day to usssss!_" Arthur sang.

But before he could finish, Martin, who was sitting closest to him at his desk, stomped on the ex-steward's foot, causing Arthur's brain to go elsewhere and he never finished because he was too busy hopping around the porticabin on one foot.

"It's going to be a short trip, boys," Carolyn said, blinking at the way Martin had so nonchalantly shut the cabin boy up.

"Cardiff," Martin said, in a rather bored voice as he turned the page of his book. He was now 4/6 of the way through _The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes_ (one of the older editions).

"Yes. Our very own Sherlock Holmes has it right," Carolyn replied with a small smile on her face. "He should be here any time now—"

Carolyn was interrupted by a large crash, some swearing, and Martin opening the door just as Mr. Burling barged in. "I can't stand that woman, I really can't. Oh." He noticed that the door had been opened for him before he could begin pounding on it.

"Goodbye, Mr. Burling!" came Elizabeth's shrill voice as the car zoomed off.

"I should never let her drive that car again," Burling told his audience. "Well? That aeroplane won't fly itself, come on!"

Arthur was suddenly chattering on excitedly to Mr. Burling, who snarked back in his usual way. Martin grabbed his book, carefully placed it in his flight bag, and followed the two out of the porticabin and into the hangar. Douglas and Carolyn were the last out.

"Douglas, it's time for the Burling Day Frisking of the First Officer…" Carolyn sang, putting a hand on her First Officer's shoulder.

Martin perked up, looking back at his CEO and First Officer, "I'll need to see this…"

"I didn't make you Detective Inspector Martin Crieff for this trip, Martin," Carolyn replied.

"I don't care, Carolyn. Douglas and I have a little bet on about if Douglas is going to win this time or not."

"Better start getting ready for my favor, Martin. I think I'll want you to wear a maid's uniform. The women's version," Douglas crooned.

Martin's eyebrow rose, but he followed Douglas and Carolyn toward Phil of the fire crew, who was looking pensive as they approached him. Phil patted Douglas down, and found nothing. Martin looked over Phil's shoulder as the other man went through the First Officer's flight bag.

"Well?" Carolyn asked.

"On his person, nothing. In his flight bag, nothing out of the ordinary…" Phil replied.

Martin blinked, and turned to Carolyn. Carolyn shrugged, "Have you totally given up, Douglas?"

"Oh no… I _will_ steal the whiskey. I've got something I want from Martin here. I just don't need anything extra to steal the whiskey this time. You've opened the _one_ bottle, I presume?" Douglas asked.

Martin took the whiskey out of his flight bag and opened it with a nice _crack_ noise. "_I_ have now."

"Oh… _Martin_ has the whiskey?" Douglas asked.

"Carolyn gave me the company card to buy it on my way in today," Martin replied, "And I decided to keep it."

He put the whiskey away, but there was a clinking noise as he did.

"All right, _Martin_, I know you have _The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes_ in your bag, and your usual other-things-I-could-care-less-about. But what is that sound of glass on glass I hear? The Talisker and…?" Douglas asked.

"Just a bottle of wine," Martin replied. "I picked something up for my sister with my own card—" here he gave a look to Carolyn, who had a suspicious look on her face as she overheard her pilots' conversation "—as a thank you present for my collection of Sherlock Holmes stories she gave me."

"That's sweet…" Douglas said, seeming to drop the subject. "How cheap is the stuff?"

"Unlike your… friends, Kaitlin _likes_ the cheap stuff," Martin shot back, and picked up his bag to get into GERTI.

"Is it wise to keep the whiskey in your flight bag?" Carolyn asked, catching up to her captain.

"No," Martin replied, hissing slightly so Douglas wouldn't overhear, "But that's the point."

Carolyn raised both eyebrows, but she smiled a little and nodded. "Well, good luck, Martin—"

"—and may God have mercy on my soul," Martin finished, "I know."

* * *

><p>After the post-takeoff checks, Douglas sat back in his chair and asked, "So… what kind of wine did you get your sister?"<p>

Martin smirked inwardly as he outwardly opened his flight bag in a nonchalant manner. He took out the wine bottle and handed it to Douglas. Douglas studied it. The top was made of a red wax, and the bottle was hardly see-through, and rather green, like any ordinary wine bottle.

"This is the cheapest I think I've seen, Captain," Douglas quipped.

Martin simply shook his head and turned it forward again. After a few moment of silence from both pilots, Arthur burst in. "Mr. Burling would like his whiskey now, Martin."

Martin nodded, "I'll get it to him," he said.

"You will?" Arthur asked.

Martin smiled at Arthur affectionately, which made Douglas's stomach squirm a bit in jealousy, but he squelched it as fast as possible.

"Yes, Arthur, I will. I'm the only one keeping an eye on the whiskey this time. You sit tight, all right?" Martin asked.

"All right, Skip! Thanks!" Arthur said, hugging Martin tightly before bursting out again.

"Are you sure about this, Captain?" Douglas asked, "You remember what happened last time? In Edinburgh?"

"I actually learn from my mistakes, Douglas," Martin snapped, and hefted his flight bag to the galley.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Burling?" Martin asked, handing Mr. Burling a glass.<p>

"Oh? What's happened to the village idiot?" Burling asked.

"Nothing. I decided it was better service if the Captain gave the passenger his drink," Martin replied.

"Oh… well at least your more prompt than that idiot you call a cabin boy."

Martin shuddered as he entered the galley again. He looked in the fridge and saw that his wine was still there and smiled. He had left his flight bag in the galley, though, and he checked it thoroughly. He smirked when the whiskey was gone right out of his bag, but he was concerned that his _Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes_ was missing as well.

Arthur would never touch his flight bag unless he was carrying it for Martin, though, so Martin took the bag by the handles and entered the flight deck. He immediately put on his angry face.

"The whiskey! It's gone!" he shouted, putting his bag down rather hard.

Douglas smirked, the bottle of whiskey in plain view, and the large leather-bound book in his lap as he read where Martin had left off.

"Sorry, Martin. Looks like your pal Sherlock has failed in his teachings," Douglas said.

Martin snatched the book from him, but before he could snatch the whiskey back, Douglas had zipped his bag and put it on the other side of him, out of Martin's reach.

Martin huffed and looked forward, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly.

* * *

><p>Douglas should have known it was all a trick, he really should have. But he was too busy gloating to really figure it out. It should have been observed that Martin left the cabin every time Mr. Burling called for his whiskey, and the fact that Mr. Burling kept calling for whiskey should have tipped the First Officer off considerably. Douglas would tell anyone that he thought Martin was just leaving to calm Mr. Burling down at random intervals after telling him that the Talisker had been stolen. They weren't being tipped very well anymore, anyway. Elizabeth Burling had made sure of that back on their trip to Paris a few years prior.<p>

On the way back from Cardiff, however, Douglas made the mistake, he thought, of hinting at what he wanted Martin to do for him as his favor.

"I told you about the maid uniform, right?" Douglas asked.

"I heard," Martin said, a strange expression of pride on his face.

"I have it with me in my flight bag… with the Talisker I won from you thanks to your—"

"Natural bad luck and incompetence?" Martin asked, turning to him.

"Yes," Douglas replied, then blinked.

Martin was still observing and deducing, Douglas thought. Usually Martin gave up on the world, or at least the thing he had been trying to do, when it failed him. Sherlock Holmes had failed him, so shouldn't Martin be… not observing and deducing?

"Something's up," Douglas said, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Martin smirked a bit, but was suddenly called by Mr. Burling, and so he went away again for a brief fifteen minutes. When he returned again, Douglas had partly figured it out.

"_You_ actually won, didn't you, Captain?" Douglas said, but it was completely rhetorical.

"Oh! You _are_ actually smart," Martin replied, grinning.

Douglas took the bottle of Talisker out of his bag, ignoring Martin's quip, "This liquid certainly _looks_ like Talisker…"

"Because I found the one white wine in my supermarket that looks like whiskey," Martin replied.

"But the wine bottle was closed! I figured you used the trick I taught you in Edinburgh? With the nail varnish? On the whiskey bottle, at least?" Douglas asked.

"You would be correct on the latter three," Martin replied. "But I took the whiskey out of the bottle and, using a syringe, poured it into the emptied wine bottle, and then took a match to the wax to close the hole I had made. I also sucked the wine out with another syringe, by the way."

"Then you purposefully left the two bottles in your flight bag, and your flight bag on the counter in the galley that first time, and you served Mr. Burling yourself to hide the fact that you were pouring the Talisker from a _wine_ bottle?"

"Yes," Martin replied. "You awe my Professor Holmes an apology."

Douglas blinked, "Is that your favor?"

"Oh no," Martin chuckled a bit, "after landing checks and checking in with Carolyn, you'll get to do me my favor…"

Douglas turned forward once more, but looked at Martin from that position, crooking his head somewhat. "Well played, Martin. It certainly makes future Burling Days more fun."

"Doesn't it _just_?" Martin asked, eerily like Douglas might.

Douglas shuddered, and Martin made note of it.

* * *

><p>"Do we need to drive anywhere for this favor?" Douglas asked, once the crew and passenger of MJN had landed and checked in with Carolyn.<p>

She was pleased that Burling had a nice trip, and that he got his whiskey, and that Douglas hadn't _really_ stolen it. "You are turning out to be a very good observer, Martin…" she told him. "I will call on your powers of reasoning and deduction the next time there is a rather _scheduled_ whiskey theft…"

"Or _attempted_ whiskey theft," Martin had replied.

Martin paused at his van and took the keys out of pocket for his van. "No."

"That's odd… do you need help with another Icarus job?" Douglas asked.

Martin replied, "No."

As he slid the key into the lock and unlocked the side door, he dropped his flight bag and turned to Douglas. "I need your help with something. I can't quite read people in the present. I can take facts from the past and reapply them, but not… present actions. Human nature is a bit of a mystery to me."

Douglas nodded, "Yes…?"

"I need your opinion of certain… changes in one of my coworkers. As my favor, do you think you could help?" Martin asked.

"Be the Watson to your Holmes?" Douglas asked.

_Now you're slipping into dangerous territory._ Martin thought, trying not to chuckle. "If you see that kind of subtext, then sure."

"A coworker? Arthur perhaps? Or is it Carolyn?" Douglas asked, "You wouldn't be asking me for my opinion of _me_, so it's got to be the other two… Unless you have a coworker from Icarus?"

Martin grinned, but pulled Douglas by the belt loops closer toward him. "This coworker and I have gotten closer over the years. From shifty-eyed coworkers to dear friends, I hope."

Douglas's eyebrows rose, "Ah…"

Martin suddenly became bashful, "I admit I've had a bit of a crush on him for a while, but I can see that these feelings for him won't go away, so I've just got to know if he feels the same way about me…"

"And what facts have you gathered, Mr. Holmes?" Douglas asked, his voice softening slightly as his hands gravitated towards Martin's hips.

"Oh, my _dear_ Watson, he's more flirty with me, but that's just my opinion. He looks at me with eyes that convey more softness than they do to, say, our CEO or cabin-boy," Martin replied, looking into Douglas's eyes to emphasize.

"Well, he's a lucky bastard for knowing you, Martin," Douglas replied, scoffing lightly.

"Then… he has feelings for me, would you say?" Martin asked, crooking an eyebrow up.

"I would say so, Captain," Douglas replied, smiling. "Can we cut the crap now?"

"I say we can," Martin replied, and launched up on the balls of his feet, wrapping his arms around Douglas's neck to kiss him.

Douglas, in turn, pulled Martin closer by wrapping his arms around the tiny-wasted ginger, murmuring happily as Martin's lips touched his.

When they parted, Douglas was still smiling, and Martin could hide neither his blush nor his grin.

"Dinner?" asked Douglas.

"Starving," replied Martin.

FIN


End file.
